


Just Right

by MelanieVimpula



Category: Homestuck
Genre: ALL THE GOOD STUFF, AR is actually nice for a change, M/M, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Sibling Incest, Technically double noncon, The Crockers made them do it, eventual (arguably) consensual encounter, shock collar involved, some sort of Stockholm Syndrome type effect happens, threatening with a knife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 13:44:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11442117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelanieVimpula/pseuds/MelanieVimpula
Summary: Dirk gets attacked by his brother and raped completely out of the blue, there's definitely something suspicious going on. He needs to find out why.The full scale from noncon to consensual. Part of my Crocker AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> When is the last time I wrote actual, graphic non-con? With Striders. I can't even remember, so this is a delicacy, my friends.
> 
> This is technically a Crocker AU story, which can be found on [my tumblr](http://melanievimpula.tumblr.com/post/160066229744/the-crocker-family-the-50s-dapper-latex-perverts). All you have to know about them for the purposes of enjoying this story is that they're kind of fucked up and love to run all sorts of experiments and sadistic punishments.
> 
> Let the Strider pain begin.

 

 ****There isn't anything more alarming than getting pulled into a headlock from behind without a warning. Especially when supposedly one is home alone. Dirk is roughly yanked backwards and held in a suffocatingly tight grip. He's startled for a second and about to fight back before his brain catches up with the situation. The body against his back is a head taller than him and feels warm and familiar, the arm is shapely and strong with feather light blond hairs and a dusting of freckles. When he casts his eyes down he can see the shitty, once white tips of red converse sneakers, not to mention the delicious mix of cologne, residual cigarette smoke and bitter morning coffee he can smell. It's just Dave.

The relief of recognizing his attacker is temporary as the terror returns when a knife is pressed against his neck. The sharp touch of metal precisely over his jugular makes a wave of nausea wash over him, cold sweat rising on his skin. Dave holds the teen tighter against himself, leaning close and harshly growling against his ear.  
– “Don't move or I swear I'll fucking kill you.”

Dirk freezes. The fear settles into the pit of his stomach, prickly and heavy. His limbs feel numb. He doesn't understand what's going on.  
– “B-Bro- ?”  
– “Shut up! Make a sound and I'll slit your throat.” Dave snaps at him, yanking him backwards for emphasis and pressing the edge of the knife tighter against Dirk's neck. It actually hurts. He swallows heavily, gasping for air in tiny, panicked heaves. It's disturbing how serious Dave sounds, this isn't a joke. But Dirk wishes it was.

– “Keep quiet and listen: I don’t have any qualms about hurting you. It's a very bad idea to fight back. So don't.” Dave's breath shudders as he talks, the warm, damp air hitting the shell of Dirk's ear in small puffs. It raises goosebumps on his skin and tickles up a really uneasy feeling. Something is really, really off. If possible, the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach turns even heavier when Dave presses his hips against Dirk's ass with a sort of urgency. There's a distinct hardness that makes Dirk's head blank for a second before he instinctively tries to jolt in the opposite direction. Dave's grip doesn't loosen, he just pulls the teen back against himself and his awaiting hard-on.

– “Don't. Move.” He spits out in the most hateful tone Dirk has ever heard him use. Dave grinds slowly against his brother before continuing. “...Unless you want me to repeatedly stab you between the ribs and fuck you while your lungs are filling up with blood. That could be interesting too, I've always wanted to fuck someone while they're dying.” He lets out a strained laugh before continuing. “But if you want to stay intact you'll do exactly as I say.”  
The mental image isn't appealing at all and Dirk decides it's better not take any chances even though he's at least 97% sure his brother could never do that to him. He doesn't know what Dave's on if he's on anything, but, he must be. This is totally uncalled for and Dirk can't think of any reason why he would deserve this kind of manhandling or why Dave would want to approach him like this. He's either high or drunk and doesn't know what he's doing. That’s what Dirk tries to tell himself.

Dirk is snapped out of his thoughts as Dave suddenly jolts, grip tightening for a second, and lets out a choked noise through gritted teeth. He came painfully close to cutting through Dirk's skin. Dave releases him from his grip and moves the blade away, still keeping a hand on the teen's shoulder. Dirk can't even question it before Dave snaps at him again.

– “Go. Move!” Dirk gets violently shoved towards the kitchen. He stumbles forwards but Dave's guiding hand stays on his shoulder, leading him in front of the dining table. Adrenaline pumps through his veins, painfully burning every muscle in his body and he feels light headed. This can't be happening. Dave grabs a good fistful of his brother's hair, pushing him down and forcing him to bend over. Dirk braces the impact with his arms but his face still smacks painfully against the wooden surface and he can't help the little pained yelp. Dave holds the teen's head down tight and stabs his knife into the table right in Dirk's field of vision.

It sinks just enough to stick to the wood and stand on its own. The sudden, violent movement got Dirk to flinch and shut his eyes. His heart is racing and his mouth feels dry, but he cautiously blinks his eyes open to the sight of a knife mere inches from his face. His blood runs cold.

Dirk can see the reflection of his own naked eyes from the blade. His wide, frightened pupils stare right back at him, only a sliver of orange to be seen. His eyelashes quiver, framing the whole round iris. The sight of himself so vulnerable and terrified is frankly shocking and makes tears well up in his eyes.

Dave twists the teen's arms behind his back and pushes them a bit too far, drawing out another wail from Dirk.  
– “I said shut up!” Dave growls, holding his brother's wrists together in one hand. The other hand goes down to tear down Dirk's sweatpants and boxer briefs. In any other situation Dave would have appreciated the orange and white striped underwear as 'cute', but now it only makes him feel more like he's desecrating something pure. He goes for his own pants next.

Dirk gasps when his pants are torn down to his thighs, weakly struggling against the grip. The movement strains his arms painfully, they're held in a bad position, so he gives up quickly. The visual promise of punishment in the form of a knife stabbed to the table lessens his resistance even more. The jingle of Dave's belt raises cold sweat on his skin and makes his chest feel so constricted he can't breathe.  
It's going to happen.

Dirk shoots a helpless glance past the knife towards his shades resting on the kitchen counter. He hopes to god that Dave doesn't notice them, he's perfectly aware of the existence of AR and he's now a straight up witness. If Dave is this desperate to get it on with his little brother he's more than capable of murdering a meddling AI too. There's nothing AR could do to help him now, nobody can get there fast enough and without alerting Dave.

The feeling of Dave's bare cock resting hot and heavy against his ass draws a resigned sob out of Dirk. He feels so shaky and weak, not a single part of him wants this but he can't voice his opinion either. The slow, anticipating rhythm of his heartbeat burns in his chest, giving him a thumping headache. Dirk has to stand on his tiptoes to stay comfortably bent over the table.

Dave yanks the knife out of the table and surprisingly enough lets Dirk's arms free. He caresses the blade against the teen's cheek, leaning closer to talk, slow and menacing.  
– “Make sure you stay quiet, don't want to draw any attention to this. Otherwise I'm gonna have to shut you up myself. Got it?” Dirk hastily straightens his hurting arms and scrambles to cover his own mouth, nodding in confirmation. The tears fall down his face as he tries to draw in shuddering panic breaths through his fingers.

– “Good boy.” Dave praises him before lifting his weight off of Dirk's back. Instead he captchalogues the knife and holds onto his brother's hips, lifting him into a better position. The grip is firm but gentle, not rough like the teen first expected. Dirk lets out a muffled yelp when Dave's dull nails suddenly dig into his hips, but just for a second. And he doesn't do it again. Instead he hurries to grab his cock and spit on it, slicking himself up. Dirk's face burns with embarrassment as his brother spreads him open and spits again, the warm, slimy liquid running down makes him shudder and Dirk knows that's not nearly enough.

The head of Dave's cock presses against him and he stops breathing, every muscle in his body strains in painful anticipation. When Dave starts pushing he does it hard. Dirk fights the intrusion with all of his might even though he knows better. From what he can feel Dave is pretty big and there's not nearly enough lubrication going on, and most importantly he doesn't want his big brother's dick inside of him.  
– “Stop clenching.” Dave scoffs, pulling Dirk's hips harder against himself.

Dirk's heart skips a beat when he can feel Dave sliding in, muscles yielding under the raw force. Dirk screams into his hands, rather from the shock than the pain. The sudden pressure inside of him feels nauseating, stretching him to his limits. His adrenaline filled blood dulls out the burn but the distress is amplified. Dave doesn't care, he pushes in all the way with a satisfied grunt, so deep it hurts. He leans down and slides his arm under Dirk's waist, holding the teen tightly against himself.

Dirk shudders when Dave's breath hits the back of his neck. There's so much weight on him he feels like suffocating, he's effectively trapped. He barely feels the pain. In fact he can barely feel anything. Dirk is thankful that his brother doesn't move right away, he has a brief time period to get used to the dick inside of him. It's...hot. Nothing like what he's used to. Silicone is cold by default and absorbs warmth slowly, but this, this is the real deal. Hard yet soft, yielding, smooth. And it fills him up completely. It's insanely satisfying to feel the hips pressing hard against his ass and the whole, brute weight of another human. Those cannot be simulated in any other way.

Why did it have to be like this? Why did his first flesh and blood dick experience have to be with his older brother?

Dirk can't stop the exhausted sobs, the tears fall between his fingers and make his face feel uncomfortable and wet. Dave's lips barely touch the back of his neck, the way he brushes them against the skin feels almost deliberate. It makes Dirk shudder but there's still something tender and soothing in the act. But just as he could appreciate the gentleness Dave suddenly tenses up again and bites back a pained groan. Then his lips are gone and his hand twists into Dirk's hair, pressing his face down against the table.

Dave pulls his hips back. There's a brief moment of hesitation before he thrusts back in. The sudden, hard movement knocks the wind out of Dirk. Now it hurts again. He is caught off guard and yelps loudly right through his fingers. Dirk scrambles to cover his mouth tighter and hopes that Dave won't hurt him for the slip up.

Dave barely notes it, he's more interested in setting up a steady rhythm for his thrusts. Hard and deep, trying to get himself off as fast as he can. His little brother is so delightfully tight it shouldn't take long, but considering the situation, it just might. That would be mortifying. He doesn't want to spend any more time on this than it's absolutely necessary and Dirk probably shares his sentiment.

Every time Dave slams into him Dirk's hip bones hit the edge of the table. His whole body rocks with the movement, eyes staring vacantly right through the wall into the distance. Somewhere out there is something far more interesting than this. His legs tremble from standing on his tip toes for so long. If he wasn't being fucked against the table Dirk would have slid down to the floor a long while ago. Dave's thrusts feel all the way up in his stomach. He'll puke out his sperm for sure after this.

Dirk is snapped out of his daze when Dave lets go of his hair and instead yanks the hand off his mouth, pressing the teen's palm against the table. Dave holds his hand over Dirk's and laces their fingers together.  
– “You're making so much noise. Try harder.” He grunts, holding tightly on his brother's hand. Despite his words he gently caresses the back of Dirk's hand with his thumb.

Something is really off. Dirk still can't understand what's going on. Dave treats him coldly, like a chore, but every now and then there's a tiny little touch that really feels like _him_. A touch full of love and appreciation, which makes Dirk feel warm, calm and safe, even if just for a second. It's conflicting when the same man is ramming into him in blind desperation. Dave doesn't even sound like he gets much pleasure out of the situation, his ragged pants and grunts sound more like him doing physical exercise. Of course Dirk has never heard him having sex but he sounds even strifing much more interested than this.

Dave picks up his pace and holds his breath for extended times. He's getting close now. Dirk curls his thumb around Dave's, trying to bite back the sobs and whimpers his brother slams out of him with every thrust. He's just glad it's gonna be over soon. Dirk wants to take a long shower and scrub himself clean. This was definitely not what he had planned for this evening.

A new kind panic rises in his throat when Dave thrusts deep with a breathless groan, hips rocking tight against Dirk's. For a second his whole body is taut and twitchy and then, it's over. He basically flops down on his brother, holding onto him shakily. It shouldn't really matter that much but Dirk feels thoroughly defiled: Dave came inside of him. He lets his hand fall off of his mouth, panting in tiny, strained heaves. There’s still nothing more interesting than what's in the distance, way beyond the room. And the situation.

Dirk snaps back into focus when he feels a solid piece of paper on the back of his hand, under Dave's palm. He took something out of his sylladex. Dave discreetly slides the small, folded up paper under Dirk's hand. He's about to react but Dave presses his hand flat against the table and angles his head so his mouth is right against Dirk's ear. He whispers, barely audible.  
  
– “ _Don't open it inside the apartment, they can see you. Please stay quiet. Sorry._ ” Every single word burns Dirk's chest and he wants to break down crying like never before. A strange relief washes over him and he's sure he's going to collapse, right here, right now.

Then Dave's lips are gone and he gets off of Dirk, pulling out a bit too roughly. His manners are back to cold and uncaring.

– “Tell about this to anyone and you know what will happen.” Dave sneers at him while pulling up his pants. There’s the jingle of the belt and then he's gone. Dirk can barely hear the soft click of the front door. The very last thing he does before his legs give up is captchaloguing the piece of paper Dave gave him. Then he falls down on his knees. Dirk keeps holding on to the edge of the table and hangs his head. It all feels unreal.

"They" can see. There’s definitely something bigger going on now. That or his brother finally went insane from all those all-nighters, alcohol and red bull coffee. It seems unlikely, Dirk is sure that he would notice if Dave had a full blown psychosis going on. This was all too calculated.

Dirk doesn’t know for how long he's sitting down but there's an insistent "ping" sound from his shades. AR wants his attention. A cold feeling coils in his stomach. Whoever "they" might be could think that Dave's messaging him and he's clearly not allowed to tell what's going on. Dirk has to play this cool. Just...look weak and traumatized. He doesn't even have to act. The new surge of adrenaline gets him up on his feet.

Dirk picks his shades up and slips them on his head. He scans the frantic red rows of text, completely void of the snark and jabs his Auto Responder would normally throw at him. Dirk sighs wearily at the AI's worry, making sure to answer him aloud so..."they" can hear.  
– “No, AR, please don't do anything. I don't want to call the police. D-Dave is going to kill me.” At the same time he writes back on the pesterchum chat: “Something fishy is going on. Someone is watching us. Mute yourself and don't do anything.”

AR responds with “Affirmative.”

Dirk continues talking to him aloud, supporting himself against the kitchen counter.  
– “Please don't tell anyone what you saw. I...I need to get out.” His voice breaks embarrassingly.  
– “Make me a list of what to take with me before he comes back.” Dirk needs to get out of the apartment. Fast. Just the knowing that the explanation sits in his sylladex makes his heart race. He wants to know.

AR promises to get to work right away. Dirk brushes off the question of his well being and just sighs, exhausted.  
– “I'm gonna take a quick shower now.” He sets his shades back down and kicks off his sweatpants and underwear. Something awfully sticky and warm runs down his inner thigh and he grimaces. His clothes go straight to the laundry basket.

Dirk takes the shortest shower he has ever taken and meticulously scrubs himself clean. The whole ordeal goes lot smoother than expected except for the few times he's about to throw up, dry heaving and spitting out the thickened saliva until he can think of something else. But he's clean. Squeaky clean in fact.

When Dirk returns to his shades there's a complete run-from-home-quite-possibly-never-to-return -checklist waiting for him. He doesn't waste any time gathering up his stuff.

Dirk pulls on his maroon heart hoodie, deciding that he would look too suspicious in all black. Black cargo pants are edgy enough by themselves, he doesn't really want to seem like someone who's on the run. He grabs his backpack and heads out without looking back.

Few blocks away he stops and finds a quiet little alley to sit in and think. Dirk asks AR to scan his belongings for any kind of surveillance devices. They're clean. He can't contain his curiosity any more and retrieves the sturdy, folded up note from his sylladex.

Dirk opens up the paper, there’s one of Dave's bank cards wrapped inside the letter. The text is small and hastily scribbled with a red ballpoint pen. The ink is smudged in places, it's either sweating palms or tears, Dirk doesn’t know, and Dave has scribbled over some minor typos. Overall the note looks like it was written in a hurry and on an uneven surface.  


_i messed with betty crocker_

_im so sorry you had to suffer from my fight against her_

_i didnt want to get you involved but i failed_

_i wouldnt ever want to hurt you_

_but i had to_

_i want to see you_

_we need to talk_

_im not allowed to tell you any of this_

_but fuck it you gotta know_

_i love you dont you ever forget that_

_take however much you need and find yourself a place to stay and hide for a while_  


The pin code of the bank card is written on the bottom of the paper. There’s also an address of a coffee shop and a date, it's two days from now.

Dirk can feel the tears spilling down his cheeks while he reads, hands shaking uncontrollably. He hugs his knees and breaks down crying.

A message pops up on Dirk's shades.  
– “We should go and see him. Can you do it?” AR asks. Dirk lifts his head to mumble his answer.  
– “I-I know. And I want to. I need to know what's going on.” The red text continues.  
– “I agree. But first we need to find a place for you to stay in. I have searched the area for the closest ATM, according to Google Maps it is approximately 0.2 miles from your current location. I'll show you the map.” A map pops up in the corner of the screen and more text appears.  
– “While you walk I will search for a suitable hotel. You might need a taxi, we shouldn't stay too close to home.”

Dirk nods and gets up shakily, recaptchaloguing the note but leaving the bank card in his pocket. He wipes his cheeks, thankful of the shades covering up his eyes. He probably doesn't look too good.

The ATM is very close by and Dirk gets himself a few thousand. That’s pocket money for Dave No-Withdraw-Limit Strider. AR guides Dirk to his next destination, a reasonably fancy hotel, which is conveniently near the coffee shop Dave wants to see him in. There's times Dirk likes his AI companion and this is definitely one of them.

Dirk books in and asks for discretion, he was never here if anyone asks. The receptionist nods.

The hotel room is small and cozy. Hotel beige, off white and dark wood. The bed is big, but clearly intended for one person. He pulls the curtains in front of the window. The fabric is sheer, but there's two layers so it reduces visibility just enough. There’s wooden blinds for darkening the room, but for the time being they're pulled up and that's fine.

The bathroom is bright, clean and white, golden mosaic tiles decorate both the walls and the floor. The floor tiles are warm and so are the fluffy towels on the rack. There’s an option to dim the lights too. And most importantly, there's a bath tub. Dirk really wants to soak his sore body in warm, bubbly water for the rest of the evening. He hurries to unpack his things.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Dirk wakes up in cold sweat, gasping for air. His heart is racing. He can feel the invisible hand prints fading from his skin as he gets more aware of his surroundings. The room is dark and he's alone. According to AR's clock Dirk has been asleep for barely half an hour. There’s an insistent feeling in the back of his throat and he desperately tries to ignore his erection resting hot and hard against his abdomen.

Dirk flops back down and lets out a deep, shuddering sigh. If it's going to be like this, he's got a long night ahead.

He gets barely any rest, jolting awake every half an hour and trying to shake off the hazy, erotic dreams his mind plagues him with. Even though Dirk can't see any faces he knows exactly who he's paired up with. The hands, multiple of them, hold him in the most uncomfortable and degrading poses, gawking at his misery. The lips travel along the curves and bends of his body, ghosting kisses along the skin and flesh. At times he swears there's teeth, sharp canines morph into flat molars and shreds of tongue. There's so many sensations at the same time, but he knows there's just one person doing this to him. And his own mouth is painfully devoid of touch, prickly, dry. The cock presses into him effortlessly, filling him up like nothing else before. No matter how roughly or at a bad angle he's penetrated the pleasure feels like it'll blow his mind, making him scream out even though his lungs are collapsing, spine bends out of shape and his skin melts under the intrusive touches.

Dirk wakes up crying, having drooled all over his cheek. The sheets feel damp and his body is burning. It's not even 5AM but he doesn't feel like sleeping any more, not like this. AR wishes him good morning and Dirk feels like throwing the shades out of the window. He restrains himself though, a bad night's sleep doesn't justify violence against semi-inanimate objects. Auto Responder brings up charts of Dirk's heart rate, breathing patterns and approximate sleep cycles throughout the night. They don't look too promising. He wants to talk about this, Dirk does not.

A brief, cold shower perks Dirk up just enough to forget the nausea boiling in the pit of his stomach. He's not going to sleep any more. It's way too early though and he won't be getting breakfast in hours. Dirk's stomach growls but he doesn't want to try his luck and head outside either. He can wait. He's good at waiting.

At 7AM Dirk heads down for breakfast. He's feeling on edge and seats himself in a dimly lit corner. His mind wanders back to yesterday's events time after time even when he's stuffing his face with as much toast, bacon and orange juice he physically can. He's antsy about tomorrow already. What if Dave doesn't come? What if he can't get any explanation out of him? What if he gets hurt again? What if the meeting is part of a bigger, more fucked up plan? If Crocker is behind this, like Dave stated, it can only get worse.

Having sated his appetite Dirk retreats back to his room and looks forward to the dinner time. He's afraid to contact any of his friends. What would he even say to them? Nothing. Nothing is good for now.

The hours roll by and Dirk can't stop thinking.

  
A thumping headache.

  
Dave's hands, Dave's weight, Dave's voice, Dave's scent, Dave's smile, Dave's teeth, Dave's eyes, Dave's cock.

  
Showering is nice. Less so when the water is cold.

  
Nobody should have this much time to reflect on their life and stare at the milky white ceiling.

_  
Still didn't throw up._

  
_How would it feel like kissing the greatest idol of your life?_

_  
Can this count as the 'bile fascination' trope?_

  
AR has long stopped trying to converse with Dirk, he's just not reading the messages. He noisily demands his creator's attention only when appropriate meal times come and pleads Dirk to go and eat. Dirk obliges but returns every time back to his catatonic state on the bed. He says he's thinking. AR wants to know what he's thinking about and if he could help. Dirk doesn’t answer. Every now and then the teen is crying and there's nothing AR can do.

The next night goes just like the night before, Dirk trashes and pants in his sleep, waking up groggy and sour. This time he gives in and rubs one out instead of freezing his dick to death under the shower. He cries after orgasming. It feels cathartic.

Dirk is visibly anxious and doesn't have much of an appetite. He's going to meet Dave today. He's just as withdrawn as he was yesterday, thinking hard about something. AR can't get any contact to him. Dirk cleans up the room a bit, meticulously moving small things around and folding his clothes twice. Then he preens himself. Dirk puts much more work in his hair than usually, cleans his face and even plucks his eyebrows. There's something very satisfying in looking like you've got your life together. That’s one more mask to wear.

When the clock strikes 1PM Dirk heads out in his comfiest hoodie and shades shielding his uncertain eyes from the world. He's got half an hour before their meeting, the walk isn't long so he's going to sit down with a coffee and die inside a bit with every passing second. Dirk chooses once again a quiet little corner to sit in and waits, sipping on his iced coffee. The wait is painful, Dirk contemplates escaping several times, but his curiosity and a dark sort of fascination gets the better of him. God he's going to be sick.

The arousal comes like a punch in the gut, unexpected, intense and overwhelming, leaving Dirk breathless and on the verge of throwing up. His chest heaves silently as his heart flutters against the bars of his ribcage like a trapped bird determined to injure itself in its fight. Tears well up abruptly in his eyes and he fights to swallow them down and to keep them from overflowing. He's here.

The second his brother steps into the coffee shop Dirk can feel his pupils dilate, the edges of his vision blurring and the focus pinpointing solely onto the hunched form walking closer in stiff but hurried strides. Dave keeps his gaze down, only glancing up to locate Dirk's table. If his intention was not to call attention onto himself he definitely blew it. As if a 6'4" man wearing aviators indoors and a hood over his head isn't eye-catching enough alone. But he's probably just as anxious as Dirk is, that can't be helped. Neither of them has been in this kind of situation before so neither of them can bullshit their way through it. Dave stops silently in front of the table.

Dirk's breath gets stuck on the growing lump in his throat, either he'll break down crying or suffocate on the feeling. He opts for the latter. He hates the way he reacts to this. It's hard to see, Dave's outline is blurry through the wet film covering his eyes. The tears stick to his eyelashes in heavy globs, ready to fall from the tiniest quiver. Dirk tries not to blink. He is shaking like a leaf, barely containing the panic reaction to flee as fast as he can, instead forcing himself to stay seated and give his brother the benefit of doubt.

– “...I needed to see you.”

That's all Dave says. His voice is strained and rough and he looks so, so tired. He's waiting for some sort of confirmation, anything to tell him that he's welcome, so he could take a seat. Dirk nods, carefully, holding his breath. He's starting to feel light-headed.

Dave is about to sit down but hesitates for a second, holding onto the back of the chair. Dirk sits with his back to the wall and if Dave sits down across him he's effectively blocking the only escape route. That's not right.  
– “Is...Is this alright? Or do you want to switch seats?”  
Very thoughtful of him, but Dirk trusts he can't do any harm in a public space and...the thought of Dave looming over him, keeping him from fleeing twists his guts in a morbidly exhilarating manner that makes him tingle all the way to his fingertips. Remembering the crushing weight and the warmth of his brother's body against his makes Dirk shudder and rises the hairs on the back of his neck. He feels sick.

– “It's alright.” Dirk manages to choke out, gripping the edge of his seat as Dave breathes out in relief and sits down. The man immediately pushes his elbows up on the table, unconsciously shielding himself, and leans in closer to talk quietly.  
  
– “I'm really sorry. ...I know, this is the most cliched thing I could say in this situation, but I'm truly really really sorry. I-I didn't want this.” Dave is shaking. His bangs hang in loose, greasy clumps and his stubble is overgrown its normal seductive, intentionally unkept looking length. For once Dirk is way more groomed than him. Dave nervously rubs his cheek, accidentally dislocating his shades by an inch but fixes them hastily.  
– “You read my letter, didn't you. You wouldn't be here otherwise.” He phrases himself like a question even though he lays it down as a statement. Dirk nods again, letting out a shaky breath. Even he can't tell if it's of fear or need.

Dave holds onto his own arm and continues.  
– “So, you know already that this whole mess is Crocker's doing. Messing with politics in times like these is dangerous, I know. I wanted to make a difference. I...knew something like this was inevitable, but I didn't really expect... _this_.” He sighs and runs his fingers through his bangs. “...I didn't have a choice.”

Dirk can't hide the little grimace as his chest convulses, forcing out a tiny choked sob. The tears finally fall on his cheeks and slide under the rim of his shades for Dave to see.

Dave flinches, clearly conflicted. He has no idea what he should do. At this point he doesn't feel like he should touch Dirk to comfort him, the teen wouldn’t probably like that. So he does nothing, passively waiting for Dirk to give him some sort of instructions how to handle the situation. The stifled little sobs wrench his heart painfully nonetheless.

Dirk leans his elbows on the table, hugging himself tightly. His fingers dig into his shoulders, there would be nail marks if there wasn't the thick fabric of his hoodie separating them from the skin. It goes on for a while and Dave is patient.  
– “G...Go on. Don't m-...mind me.” Dirk whispers when he can breathe again. His face feels hot and the salty tears dry on his skin, creating a thin, disgusting film he can feel every time he moves any muscle in his face.

– “Oh.” The man breathes out, grimacing as he gathers his thoughts.  
– “Well, technically I did have a choice.” Dave continues. He breathes in deep, furrowing his brows. “I'm gonna be frank. They were going to kill you if I didn't do what I did. And it wouldn't have been any 'vanilla' sort of killing; they would have tortured the shit out of you first. Y'know, skinning you like a charred sausage, no doubt grilled first to the perfect crispness. All juicy and pleasantly smoked for the best campfire grilling experience, but probably not in the woods. Camping outside is not the place for this grade of sausage mutilation. Who wants to eat sausage skin anyways? It's made out of guts. Or plastic, depends on how organic your sausage is. And this sausage is 100% organic Dirk Strider, hanged on a hook to get the most tender meat imaginable. Uh. ...And definitely I would have been the witness, because this whole thing was for scaring me off. The Batterwitch really doesn’t like me.”

Dave's ramble could have been funny if it wasn't so morbid and if the flip side of the situation didn't include being threatened with a knife and getting non-consensually fucked into the kitchen table. Dirk snickers anyway.

– “Sorry, this isn't the right time.” Dave sighs and shifts a bit. “But I couldn't let that happen. If it meant to fuck everything up to keep you alive, I'd do it. This was bad for us both but at least we're not dead. And technically we shouldn't be having this discussion in the first place.”

Dirk wipes his face with a napkin and blows his nose, his chest doesn't feel so constricted any more. He clears his throat before talking.  
– “I know. You said so in your letter. And I figured; why would you secretly slip me a paper while boning me and whisper in my ear not to read it inside the apartment if you could tell me what's going on?” His nose is stuffy and he feels weak. On one hand he would love to embrace his brother and cry into his neck, but on the other touching him would be the most repulsive thing he could think of. And thinking about it makes his heart speed up for all the wrong reasons.

– “I was instructed not to tell you about any of this. It was to be a rape in cold blood and you're supposed to resent me for it forever. They've got tapes now and that's going to be real heavy blackmail material. But...I just felt that you should know about this. Sorry.” Dave shrinks visibly while talking, his shoulders fall and he looks guilty. It feels wrong seeing him like that.

– “I appreciate you telling me.” Dirk says, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. His attention is drawn to an irritated spot on Dave's neck when he slips his hand inside the hood and scratches it. It looks unnatural and on a closer look seems to go all the way around his neck in reddened patches.  
– “What is that?” Dirk asks and Dave stops in mid scratch, looking to the side.  
  
– “They put a shock collar on me. I got a zap every time they thought I was being too gentle. Nothing big, just enough to hurt. My skin didn't like it though.” He answers, resigned. That explains the flinching and the occasional roughness. “They probably could have killed me with it if they saw me trying to communicate with you. So, thanks for playing along. You really saved me.”

Dirk lets the corner of his mouth lift just slightly.  
– “I was pretty much scared shitless, but I trusted you had a very good reason for all of this after you gave me the note, so I tried to act natural. Or as natural as you can be after...that. They probably think I ran from home. I scanned my belongings after leaving too.” He pushes his shades up his nose a bit, fixing their position and calling attention to them.  
– “You should be grateful AR didn't call the police on you. He questioned your motives too, so we decided to hear you out.”  
– “Thank god. That would have been really bad. Really, really fucking bad.” Dave rubs his eyes, pushing the shades up his forehead. His sigh is so deep and worn out that Dirk almost reaches over to hold his hand. Just almost. The desperate ache in his chest is getting worse and his adrenaline filled blood burns in his muscles. The silence stretches.

– “Dave.” Dirk starts, feeling how his pulse beats relentlessly against his wrists. “This isn't the best place to talk. Let's go somewhere else. Somewhere private.”

Dave looks surprised, quickly glancing around to map out the rest of the room. The shop is full of people, but they're seated in the furthest corner away from everyone.  
– “You're right, but would you really go somewhere alone with me after what I've done?” He asks, concern creasing on his face.  
– “You said you didn't want to do it. I know you and I don't see any reason why you would want me.” Saying it sends the tiniest spark of hurt in Dirk's heart, it's already beating painfully hard and slow in his anxiety. It makes him feel empty.

Dave lowers his voice.  
– “I swear that I don't want you. I was drugged up so I could even think of touching you. I could never ever do it again.” His tone is frantic, almost pleading.  
– “I trust you.” Dirk says before standing up and throwing his backpack over his shoulder. He starts walking away and Dave scrambles up to follow him outside. He keeps his distance from Dirk, who every now and then checks if he's still following. The teen leads them back to the hotel and waits for Dave to catch up with him. 

– “Y-You're taking me to your hotel room? Do you really want me knowing where you stay?” Dave inquires when they're standing close in the uncomfortably small elevator.  
– “What are you so afraid of? It's like you're worried you'll slip up and jump me again.” Dirk throws a jab at Dave, it's immensely pleasurable to watch him squirm. He can feel his palms sweating and fingers burning in anticipation.  
– “N-No. I'm just trying to be considerate, I don't want you to think that I would. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”  
– “Then don't complain, I know what I'm doing.”

They arrive to their floor and Dirk pulls out his key card, walks up to his room and unlocks the door. He's the first to enter but he doesn't flick on the lights. He sets his bag down, discreetly removes his shades and throws them on the side table. Dave enters after him and closes the door, about to ask about the darkness before Dirk flings himself at him.

Dave is knocked back against the door, held in place by Dirk's body and his fists balled in the front of the man's hoodie. He roughly jerks him downwards by it, pressing his lips against Dave's. The kiss is rough and needy with way more teeth than necessary. Dave is stunned for a second and doesn't kiss back, but is quick to push the other away. He has to forcefully pry Dirk off by his shoulders but the teen keeps holding onto his clothes, pulling him back.

– “D-Dirk...!” He cries out, breathless, horribly confused and can’t say anything else besides the other's name before Dirk gets close again. So close he can feel Dave's breath on his skin, hot and damp. His big brother's scent is intoxicating, the sharp tang of his sweat breaks through his cologne, warm and overpowering. It makes his head swim with want.

– “Please, I need this. I haven't been able to think of anything else. I need you. I don't know what happened, but you fucking broke me. I want you to rape me again. And again and again and again and...” Nausea boils in the pit of Dirk's stomach and his legs feel so weak they're going to give up under him any second now, but the feeling of Dave's strong hands on his shoulders sends painful sparks right to his groin. He could do so much more with those hands.  
– “I want you to absolutely ravish me, please, I want you so bad. I want you to overpower me, hold me down and fuck me. _Fuck me. Fuck me-_ ”

Dirk's shaking legs give out and he falls against Dave's chest, desperately trying to hold onto him. Dave is quick to kneel down with him, setting him down softly. He cups Dirk's cheeks, wiping away his tears and repeatedly whispering 'oh no' under his breath. Dirk didn't even notice he was crying until now. Dave is horrified, there's a definite frown on his face even though Dirk can't see his eyes.  
– “No, no, no... Please. That's not what you want, please, no...” Dave pulls his brother into a tight hug, whispering assurances against his ear and stroking his hair.  
– “Please... Trust me, you don't want that and definitely not from me. You're in shock, this is not right.”

Dirk presses his face tightly into the crook of his brother's neck, breathing in his scent, so warm and salty. Dave's touch burns his skin even through all the clothes but he wants it, he wants it to hurt. He wants those disgusting hands to roam over his body until he's sick in his skin. He wants to be felt up. Filled up. Fucked up.

Dave sounds desperate when Dirk clings to him harder and tries to wiggle his nose under the hood, clawing at the back of his hoodie.  
– “You don't know what you're saying, Dirk. Please, don't. I can’t do it. I can’t.” He tries to pull away when Dirk latches his lips just under Dave's jawline, sucking at the skin.  
– “No, no, no... Dirk!” He pulls Dirk off by his hair and he lets out a shuddering moan. Dave lets go immediately.

– “Please, hurt me. I need it.” Dirk begs, trying to crawl onto his brother's lap, pulling at his clothes.  
– “You could do it once, why can't you do it again? I really want this.”

– “I can't! I don't want to, please, you're my little brother and I can’t bare to hurt you.” Dave sounds almost hysterical, trying to keep the teen at an arm's length. Dirk grabs his wrist, dragging his hand down to his erection. It's hard and hot trough his cargo pants and he grinds it against Dave's hand.  
-"Feel it? I really, _really_ want this." Dirk breathes the words out in a low purr.

Dave yanks his hand away, looking even more disturbed.  
– “No, no, no, this is not happening. We're not doing this, Dirk!” He tries to scoot backwards but he's trapped between the door and Dirk.

– “You could fuck me any way you like, I don't care, I just want you inside of me! If...If you can't get hard, I can help. I'll suck your cock, I can do it. You can fuck my throat raw. You can cum on my face, anything! Just please fill me up.” Dirk's begging gets more and more unintelligible towards the end, he's crying harder now.

Dave has no idea how to calm down his hysterical brother, there doesn't seem to be anything he can do. If he keeps Dirk away he'll get more distressed but if he keeps Dirk close he'll get handsy. There’s no way to win. His resistance starts dying down. He's the one that traumatized Dirk this bad. This is his fault. The tears burn in the corners of his eyes. He needs to take the responsibility. He lets Dirk crawl on him, the teen straddles his thighs and brings his face close to Dave's.

– “Dirk, I'm so sorry-” He gets cut off by Dirk's lips. The teen kisses him hard, trying to pry his mouth open. Defeated, Dave parts his teeth and lets Dirk push his tongue in. He kisses Dave deep and desperate, clamping his thighs down around Dave's. Dirk keeps sucking in air through his nostrils like he's dying. He plays with Dave's tongue piercing before pulling away and panting.  
– “I love your piercings. They're hot.” He trails kisses down Dave's chin, appreciating his snake bites.

Dave closes his eyes and lets it happen. The teen kisses up his cheek, lifting his shades out of the way. He cups Dave's face, planting a kiss high on his cheekbone, then on the brow bone. Dave scrunches his brows when Dirk touches his brow piercings, the touch is gentle and appreciating. It lingers on a while before it vanishes. He flinches when Dirk's lips press softly on his eyelid, and then on the other. The touch makes tears fall down his cheeks, he isn’t sure when he even started crying. Then Dirk's lips are back on Dave's mouth and he doesn't feel like stopping the teen.

Dirk grinds down on him and continues begging but Dave can't hear the half of it. Slowly he opens his eyes and locks gazes with Dirk.  
– “Are you absolutely sure?" He asks and Dirk stops. "Do you really want this? Or do you just want to hurt yourself? Is this a test?”

The desperate tears of frustration are still falling down Dirk's cheeks. His shaky fingers grip at the front of Dave's hoodie.  
– “I do. This isn't a test, I want you bro. I want you to wreck me. Do me like I'm nothing. Spit on me. Hit me.” Dirk's eyes are burning orange and his gaze is a challenge. Dave wants to snuff out the flame.

– “Okay.” He simply answers and shifts Dirk off his lap to stand up. He picks Dirk up and carries him to the bed, setting him gently down on the soft, clean hotel sheets.  
– “But I'll do this my way. I won't hurt you.”

Dave strips down his hoodie and jeans, eyes meeting the throbbing hard-on he didn't even notice he had, straining to get out of his boxers. Dirk throws off his clothes too, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. He keeps his tank top on however. Dave can't help but trail the expanse of Dirk's body with his gaze. All the toned, straining muscle, shivering in anticipation, the freckles peppered all over the almost translucently pale skin, his chest heaving irregularly, the heartbeat hammering against his breastbone, the slightly parted lips revealing just a sliver of white teeth, and trailing downwards from his navel along the trail of platinum pubic hair, the rock hard cock, leaking pre-cum and twitching in time with his pulse.

Dave can't hold himself back any more. He climbs onto the teen, settling between Dirk's legs and laying down on his full weight. He kisses his brother deep, stealing his breath away.

A deep, primal fear sparks through Dirk's system when Dave gets on top of him, covering him up with his bigger body and pressing him tightly into the mattress. But it feels good. It feels so damn good. He can feel blood rushing down to his groin and he locks his limbs around Dave, eagerly giving in to the kiss.

Suddenly Dave pulls back, breathless, and curses under his breath.  
– “God fucking dammit! We don't have any lube. I'm not fucking you without.” He manages to bite back "again" from the end. Dirk is faster, he pulls a tube out of his sylladex.  
– “We do. I've thought about this.”

Dave is stunned for a second but then shrugs and takes the lube anyway. He pops the tube open, squeezes it on his fingers and spreads a good amount between Dirk's legs. He's about to push his finger in when Dirk stops him.

– “You don't need to prepare me.”  
– “But-”  
– “If you're not going to hit me at least give me this.”

Dave sighs and gives in, slicking up his own cock instead. He adds more lube.  
– “It's gonna hurt.” He warns while lining himself up with Dirk's hips. The teen under him snorts and shoots him a condescending glare.  
– “Trust me, _I know_.”

Dave can't still shake the feeling that he shouldn't do this but the insistent throbbing between his legs tells otherwise. They're both crying. This won't do good to either them in the long run. But when he sinks balls deep into his earnestly moaning little brother, needy limbs tangled together, nails scraping along his skin and the tight, constricting heat pulling him in,

 _it's just right_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The incest was inevitable.
> 
> This was technically a one-shot but I felt like it would be too long to put in one chapter. :']


End file.
